A Feeling Beyond Friendship.

By Becki.

Rating:K I guess for now, but I'll let you know as I go.

Summary: After the explosion Greg is in need of some support and comfort, and finds more than he anticipated in the shape of his best friend.

Comments: Just a short idea I had while thinking about Greg. Comments would be very welcome! Set just after the third series. And a few weeks after the end of my second CSI fic All The Things You've Shown Me. You don't need to read the others to read this, although this fic references a few moments such as Warrick and Jade's marriage.
Disclaimer: CSI characters aren't mine cries.

Inside The Box Flashback

Grissom enters the room.

"You rang?"

"Yeah. The uh, blood flecks from the safe deposit box, two distinct samples only got one hit though. Uh...primary samples belong to Vivian Verona." His hands shake slightly as he continues to read out the results to Grissom. "Cocktail waitress. She was killed on the top floor of the old Pikes gambling hall two years ago. Here's the report."

He hands Grissom the report who then says,

"Multiple puncture wounds. Different depths, possibly two knives."

"I've pulled the crime scene photo's too." He hands them over. "Case is still pending, murder weapons never found. Now secondary blood sample came back MD – could be the killer – they say murders messy."

Grissom notices that Greg's hands are shaking as he holds the paper.

"Greg," Greg looks up at him. "Your hands are shaking."

Greg looks down at his hands to cover up his expression.

"No, they're not." He tries to stop it but can't. He looks up at Grissom, back down, then back up again hoping to cover up, but Grissom's not having any of it, and he takes the paper out of Greg's hand.

"Hold your hands up."

He does so. They are definitely shaking. Greg knows he's not going to be able to talk his way out of it.

"Uhh...they've been shaking ever since – "

He gestures to the exploded lab across the way. Grissom turns around to look at it, then back to Greg.

"Can't really make it stop."

He says looks at his hands. His voice sounded like it was almost going to break.

"Is it affecting your work?"

"If I was a bomb expert maybe." He said trying to make light of the situation, but he was no where near it. Grissom gives him a serious look. "No, I...think I have it under control."

He flexes his hands a little.

"It'll stop. If you need me I'll be around."

Greg look at him.

"'Kay."

He says, looking back at his hands and flexing them again.

Prologue

Sticking the key in the door, he unlocked it and pushed it open. Stepping inside he threw the keys onto the table behind the door, as he kicked it closed with his heel.

Then he just stood there taking a slow deep breath, sounding tired mentally and physically. He carefully pulled off his coat, wincing slightly as his back muscles slid over his bones, pulling his scarred skin tight, and hung his coat up next to the door.

He moved to the kitchen area, bent down carefully to the fridge and took out a bottle of beer, then went and sat down on the couch. Leaning back carefully he closed his eyes, holding the cool beer bottle to his sweat covered forehead and stayed still for a moment.

Today had been one of the longest days ever. It had been his first day back on the job and he'd practically freaked out right in front of Grissom. Funny that his hands weren't shaking so much now that he was back home. They were still shaking but it was imperceptive to most people except him, and probably Grissom now that he knew.

Grissom had told him that if he needed anyone then he'd be around. He didn't think he'd need anyone, thought he could deal with this on his own, but he was wrong. By the end of his shift he couldn't stand being there and he needed to talk to someone about these feelings.

So he'd gone to Grissom's office only to find Catherine sitting in there. Grissom wasn't there. He had his own problems to deal with.

"Anything I can help you with Greg?"

For a moment he was contemplating talking to her but then he realised that he couldn't. He couldn't talk to her of all people. Not because he blamed her, but because Greg knew she was blaming herself, even though he knew it was an accident. And adding the fact that he was having problems dealing with what had happened was like adding salt to the wound. He couldn't do that to her.

"No. No, it's cool. It wasn't important."

He'd said and left.

Now he was sitting on his own in his apartment, bursting to talk to someone. He felt like he was going to scream with the thoughts and feelings inside of him. He didn't think he'd ever be affected by something like that as much as this. So he was caught in an explosion, and thrown through a glass window, had burns all over his back and neck. People had been through worse, hadn't they? It wasn't as if he'd lost a limb, or was severely burnt all over. So why was this such a big thing? Why did he shake every time he entered work now? Why was he questioning every move he made, always checking to make sure no appliances were left on. He couldn't seem to get his head around anything and he knew that he needed to talk this through with someone, sort out all his jumbled thoughts in his head.

Making a decision he leaned forwards, grabbed the phone from the table next to the sofa and sat back with it in his lap. He looked at it, mentally going through the options. He'd rang his family and close friends to let them know what had happened and that he was okay and they had all said they'd be there for him if he needed them.

Taking a breath he dialled the number then brought the phone up to his ear. For a few moments all he heard was a constant ringing, then someone picked up. For a moment he didn't reply to their questioned greeting, then he answered quietly.

"I need you..."

TBC…

So, what do you think? Want to read some more? xx